


As The Day Gets Better

by WhatShouldMyUsernameBe



Category: Mothman (Folklore)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, What am I doing?, non-binary original character - Freeform, why did I dedicate an hour of my life to this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24651394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatShouldMyUsernameBe/pseuds/WhatShouldMyUsernameBe
Summary: A Mothman fic
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: the ultimate mothman fucker works





	As The Day Gets Better

The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and it was just a really pleasant day. Mothman was sitting on the balcony of his small cozy apartment, letting his gorgeous, fluttery wings absorb the warm light buzzing in the air.

The day actually started off pretty horribly, rain pounding on the window panes, the impact making the blinds shutter. Mothman had tripped as he fell out of bed, landing on his back and feeling a shudder of pain wrack his body. He had hit the part his wing connected to his back on something sharp, and he cursed as his body lay there, writhing at the biting, stinging sensation.

His wings were the most sensitive part of his body because they were the center of his energy. With each slight shift or flap of his wings, the energy in his body circulates. It's like the heart, which sends blood to various parts of the body, except that instead of blood, it circulates something holy, something sacred. His life energy, his _soul_. That's what his wings do for him, they keep him alive. To him, his wings are what make him unique, they're what make him special, they are what make him Mothman.

After the pain died down, he got up and headed to the bathroom, quickly over his quiet moment of introspection. He took got ready for the day quickly, doing a once over of himself to make sure he looked relatively decent. He was just planning to lounge at home, maybe go to the forest. It was his free day, he could do what he wanted. 

He made himself a quick breakfast of Coco Puffs and milk. He was feeling a lazy day. Maybe do some yoga, watch some Chopped, do some extra work. While eating he checked his email, nothing new, and the news. It looked like he wasn't the only one with rotten luck because there seemed to have been a robbery in the very early morning, and police were struggling to find the man's robber. 

_What if a robber breaks in...?_ He quickly shook his head clear of those thoughts. This was a lazy day, no need to get worked up. 

He decided to walk around the forest to let off some steam, realizing the clouds were clearing. He loved going out just after the rain ended, especially during an early morning in the summer. The warm humid clinging on to him like perfume, invading his senses in a pleasantly refreshing way. How the sun peeked out behind the clouds, an array of colors shimmering faintly in the distance. The way the world seemed to stop, with the fresh morning dew and leftover raindrops clinging to leaves and petals of hibiscus, or orchid. The almost-silence that comes with being alone with nature, the slight chittering of the woodland creatures, and the cricketing of the grasshoppers. It was truly the calm after the storm.

He probably traversed the forest for a good three hours before he got hungry and went back home. He was still reveling in the sense of calm and etherealness of the forest, and silently prayed that it would last the whole day.

Mothman arrived home, quickly slipping off his shoes and heading into the living room to get to the quaint kitchenette. It wasn't high-tech or ultra-modern, but it _fit_ with his tranquil lifestyle. That's all he could ever ask for. He mulled it over and decided to make a simple lunch (a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cut into perfect triangles), and spend some time cooking dinner. He enjoyed cooking because it gave him something to do, something to pay attention to, but it didn't absorb him like most other activities seemed to do.

He decided to eat his simple lunch on his balcony, simply basking in the sun's warm rays. It was simple, it was nice. He set aside his plate and unfurled his wings, which had been tightly packed behind him while he was sitting down. They cheered happily at being used and stretched out. For the next hour or so, he did some stretches to work out any kinks stuck in his joints.

Finishing off by doing some toe touches, he brought himself back and took his plate inside, ready to get started on dinner. He was going to make himself stir fry with tofu along with miso soup and roasted potatoes covered with garlic cream cheese. If each dish was good on its own, why not put them all together in a meal and see how it goes?

While Mothman worked, he turned on the tv and slightly upped the volume changing the channel to Food Network. To him, it was absolutely riveting watching chefs skillfully prepare meals in the heat of battle to win a monetary prize along with bragging rights. It got him excited to prepare his own meal.

He quietly hummed listening to tv and watching his hands work. God, he could do this for _days._ It was reaching about two hours when he finally finished. He swiftly plated it and headed over to the couch, snuggling into a corner and letting his wings rest against the arm. He picked up a stray blanket that was lying on the floor and swaddled himself in it, noting the incredible softness and puppy paws trailing along the sides. It must have Alex's, as they were the last person to come here. It was probably swept under the couch until he found it. He should probably give it back soon though. He knows that Alex wouldn't mind because they are a literal sweetheart.

He ate his food, watching the final showdown for the title of Master Chef. He notes that while all the food tasted absolutely delectable by itself, it didn't work together as well as he hoped. He sighed, realizing that he really should've expected this outcome. _Oh well, there's always next time._

He finished his dinner at the same time his show ended and decided to end his lazy day with some work. He actually was just going to write some emails, and he loved people so it really wasn't a big hassle. He excitedly told many of his friends about the great day he had, and he also told Alex that they forgot their blanket at his house. They told Mothman that he could keep it, and he quickly flapped his large wings once. Twice. And he nearly knocked something over. He thanked Alex for a solid 5 minutes, before beaming and rolling around the best with his newly acquired treasure.

He responded to some work emails and came up with an idea of what his week looked like before slowly drifting off into a peaceful sleep, breathing evening out. That night he had wonderful dreams and felt purely content with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I felt very tempted to write onned the tv.
> 
> Also, sorry for the rushed ending.
> 
> Thank you for reading this, and if you have any suggestions or feedback please let me know. This is my first published work.
> 
> Again, thank you.


End file.
